Lesson Learned
by IceCrystal2
Summary: Sequel to Go For The Ego Boost. Jemma never thought she would need to use that particular lesson ever... though it definitely saves her life and that of her team. But it's the aftermath she really never saw coming, even if someone is there to catch her. (WARNING: NOT AT ALL LIKE EGO BOOST)
1. Practical Application

_A/N: I would suggest reading Go For The Ego Boost first, but I don't think it's entirely necessary._

She was desperately wishing she had not sent Fitz to bed now. Definitely kicking herself for that decision right about now as the once charming Agent Valriz demanded the ammunition from behind her back. She had a brief thought to the imminent danger handling these deadly bullets in such a way would create, but as of right now she was more concerned with keeping them from being fired at her. The ricin virus was not something to take lightly and she would not be the one responsible for arming this mad man with it to use on the rest of her team.

"Don't make me shoot you little lady." He mocked, pointing his gun directly with her heart that threatened to beat out of her chest. She spared a quick glance to the crumpled figure of Skye before instinct seemed to consume her. He stepped right into her personal space and Jemma grabbed the back of his head rather than the gun. Jamming her lips to his, she swallowed something between a curse and a gasp. She could feel the adrenaline pouring from him even as every fiber of her being began to feel dirty in the worst way. But it worked…he lowered the gun just a fraction to get closer to her and press it in her side instead. He yanked at her hair demandingly while Jemma fought her urge to cry. Where was Ward? May? Even Coulson or Fitz would be a welcome sight right then, but she had a terrible feeling they were laid out like Skye. She fiddled with the magazine behind her, letting her right hand trail the edge of the table for what she knew to be there. She yelped in pain that seemed to delight the mad man when he dug his nails into her upper arm. Apparently, not fearing the arrival of her team to her panic.

"Well this is a much better reception." Valriz sadistically mocked her only to bite her bottom lip before demanding more of her attentions. Jemma felt the gun in his hand start to lower and she made herself focus on that rather than the tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She had never felt more violated and it was a desperate struggle to maintain her composure. It was the faint click, missed by the homicidal maniac that grounded her. She hoped the tensing of her shoulders did not give her away, but if he had even the slightest indication of what she planned he did not act. Jemma had never needed to fool anyone she enjoyed certain activities, despite what anyone thought of her past relationships. But just then she called on every acting skill she had ever witnessed on bad television to produce a moan she most definitely did not feel. Distracted by the alternative pursuit Jemma had laid out before him, he did not notice when she dropped the magazine into the biohazard lined trash compactor. She nearly gagged as his hand began to slide over her hip, but instead she closed the bin. If she were able she knew she needed a deep breath to work up the courage for her next act, but she did not have the time as his hand wandered lower yet and at a rapid pace.

Pulling back from him sharply, Jemma pressed the button on the compactor and made a wild grab for the pressure point on the man's gun hand. It was only a split second before Valriz realized the sounds of crunching metal. He unconsciously pulled the trigger, but Jemma managed to slide under his arm while holding his wrist, not feeling the heat of the bullet that grazed her ribs due only to adrenaline. He did not fight her simply because she did not attempt to disarm him, instead running into the cargo hold as fast as she could. She did not stop to think about Skye still lying motionless as she passed, her only thought getting away from the man now screaming in the midst of a desperate attempt to rescue his intended weapon. Jemma threw her arms over her head as she climbed the spiral staircase, bullets ricocheting around her as he divided his attention when it became clear he was not getting that bin open in time to save his technology. She fell at the top of the stairs scraping her knee on the anything but soft carpet, but it was only a breath before she found her feet out of self-preservation. She cried out in both fear and pains as she moved further down the dark hallway, the setting sun her only light through the fortified windows.

"Jemma?!" She heard Fitz scream somewhere to her right as she continued to run, knowing it was only a matter of time before Valriz caught up to her to seek his revenge.

"Simmons, open the door!" Ward's slightly calmer voice called further down the hall and Jemma felt a quick moment of guilt when she bypassed the door to Fitz bunk. Rationally she knew Ward was the best choice to take out a man hell bent on killing her and a good portion of the human race, but it still tugged at her heart to hear her best friend screaming her name.

"How?!" Jemma cried in panic when Ward's bunk door refused to open even as she used Coulson's master code for his door lock. She hardly thought Coulson would find the time to reprimand her for listening to, and not reporting, Skye for discovering the code in the first place. Jemma found herself banging on the door that separated her from Ward desperately, not noticing the blood that tinged her taste buds from the small cut to her lip she worried bigger.

"Pull it from the wall." Ward instructed, oddly calm even as Jemma barely managed a shallow breath, desperately trying not to hyperventilate.

"Simmons, pull the panel from the wall. You'll see a pair of color coded wires, just like a bomb okay? I just need you to disconnect the power from the door and I can force it open." He coaxed and Jemma was not aware she made a rapid whimpering sound even as her fingers dug into the wall, cutting the pads of her fingertips.

"The Screwdriver! JEMMA I left the 'lectronic screwdriver in the lounge, should be right behind you!" Fitz finally called out stopping his desperate recitation of her name. Jemma scrambled backward, her eyes going everywhere in panic even as she looked at the half finished project Fitz had left on the coffee table. In her desperate search, Jemma missed the screwdriver twice before her eyes finally zeroed in on it. She took the three steps back to Ward's door almost as if flying, her hands only steady from years of exposure to 'handle with care' type of materials. She got the first screw out quickly, but she could hear nothing over the pounding of her own heart. The second screw hit the floor and Jemma bit down on her lip once more, a small unconscious shiver of panic taking hold of her. She slipped on the third screw, but hurriedly corrected herself. She had just dropped the final screw from its place along with the screwdriver when she thought she heard cursing…and not in a tenor she could recognize in her sleep.

"He's coming!" She screamed louder than she should, yanking the panel from the wall.

"Green, Simmons. It's green." Ward, now a touch of what she felt was well placed panic in his voice. Jemma pulled harder on that wire then she'd ever thought herself capable. There was a hiss from the edges of Ward's door that had Jemma scrambling to grab hold of the right edge, memory the only thing guiding her to grab the side she needed to. It was disturbingly heavy, but Jemma knew if she didn't get this hunk of worthless metal out from between her and Ward she would not be struggling to breathe much longer. Her forearms screamed in protest as her feet slide on the carpet. She made out Ward's hand beside her own as they both yelled in frustrated effort. She did not know how she heard it over the pounding in her ears, but Jemma picked her head up from moving the mountain of steel between her and Ward. The click drew her eyes to the gun once more pointed at her before the positively seething demon behind it. There was nowhere for her to run. This was a straight hallway; even if he missed a few times he would hit her at a range of thirty feet. She had no way of knowing how many bullets he had, but she did know he'd passed his Shield field assessment unlike her.

She let her eyes close, dropping her hands from the door, at an odd peace suddenly. She could swear she heard the swirling of air as she had from her fall off the bus, but there was none of the fear. If anything her heart slowed and she sagged in defeat. When the fall came it was unexpected enough to jar her back from her weightless state. Jemma opened her eyes sharply as Ward's hand disappeared from around her arm and she found herself lying on his bunk. She couldn't find the air to scream as Ward jerked in front of her, red flying in all directions including her face. Jemma watched truly terrified as Ward fell to his back, raising his gun still and the bullets were finally thrown back at their attacker. It was the scream of agony from Valriz that finally jarred her from her shock. Jemma found herself calling out his name as she scrambled to her feet. She held onto the doorframe as the bullets continued to fly back and forth. It was only when they stopped and Ward lowered his weapon that she stepped out into the hallway, no longer at all concerned with being the one shot.

"Grant?!" She cried as she rapidly took in the blood soaking the already god awful colored carpet. Instead of let her apply pressure to the bullet wound she only found because of his shirts hole, he grabbed both of her hands, not an easy task as they were already slick.

"Fitz….Fitz, Simmons. Now." He winced in pain and it took a second longer than she was proud of to rise to her feet and find her chosen aid underneath his back. Ward raised his weapon as she moved down the hall, smearing his blood on the hallway wall as she used it to stay upright. She blinked the tears she'd not even noticed from her eyes as she accomplished freeing Fitz marginally quicker after Fitz talked her through a manual reset of the panel. It was actually somewhat soothing to be directed by her oldest friend in such a manner, a hardened edge of determination in his voice. He took one look at her, presumably to make sure she was in once piece, which was debatable, before moving around her. Jemma, as if on autopilot moved back up the hall after grabbing the blanket she'd knitted for Fitz's twenty-third birthday off his bunk. She ripped at where she remembered the troubling stitches and as she predicted it gave way. Ward grabbed hold of Fitz's arm as the pair kneeled down to his level. Fitz looked decidedly uncomfortable with the red being streaked down his forearm, but he said nothing as he moved to grab hold of Ward's hand in both of his. Jemma shoved the ninety nine cent a yard fabric into Ward's chest causing him to curse. Ward threw his eyes to the ceiling only a moment before he returned to staring straight into Fitz's gaze.

"May…Coulson…Skye." He managed to get out the pain clearly making it hard for him to even think, his teeth grinding as he tried to talk through it.

"Jemma." Fitz looked over to his friend who only picked her eyes off Ward's wounds a split second. It was all she needed to know what they were thinking.

"No, I'm not leaving Agent Ward to die…He hit Skye to the lower… in the lab…" She motioned toward her neck, not able to meet their eyes. Jemma did not flinch like Fitz when she grabbed hold of the still burning hot muzzle of the handgun beside the injured agent. She shoved it into Fitz's hands and while he stared at it a long minute he did eventually clear the weapon of a spent shell.

"Under…the bed…" Ward looked in the direction of his bunk, Fitz following his instructions without a word. Jemma apologized softly at the grunt of pain Ward released as she applied the full weight of her upper body to his chest. When Fitz reappeared through the small opening carrying a Smith and Wesson and a full mag pouch no one said anything. Ward lifted his arm to take hold of the weapon, snapping the safety off before his energy faded and he let both fall to the floor.

"May…first." Ward advised, to Fitz' rapid head nodding. Jemma removed one of her hands from Ward's chest only quick enough to squeeze her best friends forearm and then he was gone down the hall none of them knowing where their attacker had stumbled to. The logical part of her brain knew she should attempt to get Agent Ward talking as they waited there, for what neither of them knew. If anyone could put this situation to right it was the Calvary, but the longer she dug her hands into Ward's chest the more she worried Valriz would come back before then. She jumped when Ward grazed her ribs with the back of his unoccupied hand, pain finally registering along with the rip in her now crimson blouse, the white long having faded from even memory. She found herself desperately wanting to comfort him, but lacking the words.

"Please attempt not to perish Agent Ward, it would be most inconvenient." She whispered, still fearing they would be revisited. When he attempted to laugh, the very sound painful to her ears Jemma winced for him. When she heard footsteps Jemma threw herself over him, even as he cradled the back of her head to him, pointing his weapon in the direction of the sound. She closed her eyes, clinging to Ward as she shook once more in panic. She was nearly deafened by the sound of the gun going off, not even registering there were several more behind her. Ward managed to look over to May, Coulson, and Fitz as Valriz tumbled down the spiral staircase, finally dead. Coulson and May lowered their weapons, as Fitz scrambled to the injured agent's side sans the weapon now in Coulson's grip.

"How's 'e doin'?" Fitz asked softly, pulling Jemma from Ward's chest, even though she resisted for a brief minute in panicked shock. When she managed to register his voice she looked up to her superior officers, conveying the desperate situation to them with only the glance.

"I'll change the course to the nearest Shield outpost. May…secure our guest." Coulson ordered in what had to be the most frighteningly devoid voice she had ever heard. May simply nodded, moving toward the stairs with purpose and a, "With Pleasure".

"Fitz…we need to get him downstairs." Jemma managed when Ward groaned. Fitz paled but he nodded, both of them slinging the agent's arms over their shoulders. Ward cried out in pain but to his credit he tried to walk for them. He was barely managing shuffled steps, but it was something. By the time they reached the lab, May had tied up the body of Valriz in what looked to be parachute cords tight enough to make his veins continue to bulge even as his heart no longer beat. She had Skye up in a chair, a bag of ice pressed to the back of her head. Skye cried out in alarm when she caught sight of them, only to be forcibly put back in the chair by a hand to the shoulder by May. May moved to help them heave Ward onto the table, after it was rather carelessly cleared by a swipe of Fitz's arm. Jemma was not in the frame of mind to reprimand him for the action which destroyed three of her current projects, and two of his own. Blessedly none of them hazardous, as she stored those when finished religiously to avoid another helmet situation.

"What do you need?" May asked, taking hold of both of Jemma's shoulders to stare her down when the woman couldn't move save to stare at the bleeding man in front of her. Shaking herself out of it yet again, Jemma worried the cut on her bottom lip.

"Bandages, lots of bandages." She muttered, pacing to Ward's side where Skye had moved to hold the man's hand.

"Fitz, scissors." She ordered, a strange numbness sinking in to her every bone. There would be time enough to stop, to think. It was not right then. Fitz handed her a truly gruesome looking pair of scissors he usually used for cutting metal. Jemma cut down the length of Ward's black t-shirt, May helping to throw the useless fabric from his skin while setting the emergency kit in between Jemma and Ward.

"What do we do?" Skye whimpered catching Jemma's attention only a second before Ward squeezed the woman's hand in what she assumed was meant to be reassurance, but it only caused Skye to start yelling at Jemma for a plan of action.

"Quiet." May snapped at the young woman, the threat of violence by way of a slap lingering in the air. Picking up the scalpel she'd held in her hand nearly every day since childhood she could not find it in her to remember how to use it.

"Hold him down…this is going to hurt…badly…there isn't time…if it's a Ricin round…" Jemma trailed off as Coulson joined them. Skye grabbed hold of the arm nearest her, Fitz taking the other as May moved to lock his legs in place.

"I'm very sorry about this…" Jemma muttered in guilt as Ward threw his head back in pain, Jemma cutting into his already torn ribcage. When he began to scream, thrashing just enough to dislodge Skye and Fitz, Coulson moved to grab both sides of the man's head. Holding his eyes, Ward exhaled, Jemma pausing in what she considered the closest to torturing someone she would ever come.

"Agent Ward, there is a rather attractive young woman trying to save your life. I'd suggest you let her because I assure you there is no overtime in it if you don't." Coulson, sounding more like Coulson to Jemma's nerves, managed to say without the panic she felt.

"Yes…Sir." Ward ground his teeth, balling his hands into fists as Skye and Fitz grabbed his arms once more. Jemma chanced a look to see him holding Coulson's stare as she continued her pursuit for the bullet lodged in between what she knew to be the sixth and seventh rib of his left side. When she felt a different kind of resistance she knew she'd found it. Yanking the knife from him, Jemma grabbed the forceps she typically used to move the smaller vials of hazardous materials around. He screamed when she placed the tool into his chest. She winced, his blood having slowed its rapid flight from his body, but still making it difficult to see. She wiped almost helplessly at the substance meant to keep him alive before she retracted the forceps, the bullet firmly in her grasp. Ward seemed to linger between consciousness and oblivion as Jemma dropped the mangled metal to her microscopes slide after ordering Skye to put pressure to his wound.

"It's not Ricin." Jemma exhaled exhaustion clear before she tried to shake it from herself. Moving back to Ward's side their attention was drawn to an alarm sounding around them. May took off at a run, but Coulson just pointed to where he still held Ward's stare and the rest of them stayed.

"I'm just going to stich you up then, Agent Ward, if it's not to terribly difficult." Jemma tried for lightheadedness, calculating the odds of lung puncture silently. They weren't high since he'd not had any trouble breathing that she saw, but she knew only an actual doctor could rule it out completely. When he didn't even flinch at the needle she retrieved from the kit she grew serious instantly.

"He's losing too much blood." Jemma nearly cursed, confused when Skye called out for Fitz, who looked just as confused.

"You're AB+, so is Ward. Can't we just…" Skye waved between the two men, only Coulson managing to find the energy to question how she came to that conclusion. Jemma knew she'd care later about Skye having hacked into the teams Shield files.

"That's something I can do." Fitz nodded, scrambling to his workbench to fasten just what Jemma did not know as she finished the last stitch to Ward's chest. Raking her eyes down the rest of his body she discovered a darker stain to his left thigh. Picking up the scissors once more she fumbled with his belt one handed.

"What are you doing?!" Skye called out, grabbing hold of Jemma's arm. Rather than stop to console the woman or attempt to explain herself, Jemma simply grabbed Skye's hand and pushed it hard into the sight of what she would guess was another bullet. Skye shut up instantly, but it was May's voice over the intercom calling for Coulson that distracted her. Coulson gave Jemma perhaps the most confidence inspiring look she'd ever received, and it did wonders to combat the exhaustion taking over the numbness. He helped her to remove Ward's belt before disappearing up the spiral staircase. Being careful to cut just Ward's dark wash jeans, she did not have the energy to blush like Skye at the man's boxers.

"One problem after another." Jemma exhaled, removing Skye from her way with a not so subtle hip check. "Fitz?!" She called over her shoulder as the agent-in-training took up residence on Ward's thankfully uninjured right side.

"Almost go' it…" Fitz called distractedly as Jemma finally managed to clear the blood from her vision. It had not hit the femoral artery, of that she was sure simply because he'd have been dead by then, but the thought prompted Jemma to grab for the vital sensors. Placing them on his chest and neck she couldn't help but run her thumb down the side of his neck more to console her than him as he'd fallen unconscious. She pulled herself from a quick stare at his strangely peaceful expression before picking up the forceps once more. Skye looked away, taking in the same thing she had and Jemma did not blame her. She desperately wanted to be the one holding his hand, not the one carving into him like a thanksgiving turkey.

"Almost…" Jemma whispered to herself as she pushed a little further into the muscle of his leg, all else forgotten. "Got it." She exhaled in relief, dropping the bullet beside the other. Grabbing the same needle Jemma set to sewing her uneven stiches. They were not pretty by anyone's measure of such things, but she knew they would hold until an actual doctor could see to him.

"Ricin?" Skye asked when Jemma set the needle down, the woman almost having forgotten to check. Falling into the chair Skye had occupied not long ago Jemma rolled to her microscope.

"No." she announced to a collective sigh.

"How we doing?' Coulson called from the lab's entrance at the same time Fitz released an exclamation of triumph. Fitz fidgeted but he held out the needle in Jemma's direction. When Skye grabbed it first, Jemma simply threw in a few words of advice before she landed the needle successfully in Fitz' arm. He looked uncertainly at the table behind him, the elaborate device needing to be hooked up to Ward but unmovable. He was visibly flustered, until May joined them and simply kicked the table to Ward's feet. Skye muttered an apology to her superior officer as she hooked the needle into the vein in his right forearm.

"Good Work Simmons." May broke the tense silence as they all watched Ward's heart beat on the monitor behind them. Jemma looked over to her before down at her hands, discovering not a single place in her vision that was not colored red.

"Sir…he's in need of a doctor." Jemma lifted her eyes only after Fitz had rolled just enough to grab hold of her right hand. She realized quietly she must look a sight by their stares but she hardly had the energy to care.

"He's gonna get it. Slight clearance confusion, but we're ten minutes out from a Serbian outpost."

It was eight minutes of silence with Fitz not knowing who to look at her, Skye, or Ward before May returned to the front of the bus to land. Skye refused to take her eyes off Ward's face, and Jemma found herself falling asleep despite everything. There was an ache starting in her side, but she was so exhausted she ignored it. Her head landed on Fitz's shoulder before the sensor alarm went off. Jemma snapped instantly awake at the panicked called from Skye, adrenaline surging through her already abused veins. She turned her blood shot eyes to Ward's heart beat on the screen to find it slowing.

"No…" She whispered more to herself as she scrambled back to the man's side. She looked over him as she had for the damned screwdriver before grabbing hold of Skye's shoulder over the table. Skye supported her without knowing why, while Jemma threw her legs onto either side of Ward's torso. She was careful not to touch the angry stiches with her knees. Placing her hands over his heart she began CPR, something she had surprisingly never actually learned in her studies but a summer lifeguarding class as a child. She counted aloud to the beats of her hands as the sensors registered it was having the desired effect. Every ligament in her arms screamed to be released from the pain of movement but Jemma simply continued to count out the beats of his heart. She ground her teeth after what seemed like forever, Coulson keeping her upright as the Bus came in to quickly to what appeared to be a short landing space. Even through the bumpy landing, Jemma kept her eyes on Ward's pale face. The cargo hold door lowered almost instantly after the Bus skidded to a stop. A frigid breeze greeted them as the team of Shield doctors they assembled came running and Jemma had never seen a more beautiful sight then the slightly overweight men, several sporting long untrimmed beards. She was so relieved to turn over the CPR to someone more qualified she missed the right hook Coulson endured courtesy of Agent Clint Barton followed quickly by a leg sweep from Agent Natasha Romanoff.

_A/N: So Ego Boost was meant to be Flirty Fluffy Fun, but then this just sort of happened. I've decided not to ruin the fun of Ego Boost and post this separate. I'll introduce you to Valriz in later chapters, and talk more about what happened to get to the point where this starts._


	2. Nightmares

"You deserved that." May said in typical fashion as she helped Coulson off the ground. Jemma scrambled to move out of the doctor's way, managing to fall to her bottom painfully. Fitz hesitated only a second to help her up, most likely because of the blood still clinging to her. She didn't stop to reassure him as she would in all other occurrences, instead moving around the table. Fitz followed quickly behind her, arms poised to catch her as if at any minute she'd fall backward.

"His pulse slowed exactly two minutes ago. I removed two bullets from…" Jemma tried to inform the men, but found herself silenced by Ward's hand twitching in her direction. Moving closer to the side of the stretcher the stronger men had hauled him onto, she could not manage a single thought. She stood frozen as if he meant to attack her, simply because he was still fighting for consciousness after everything. She'd just tortured him for peats sake!

"Je…Jemma…" Ward whispered as his nose and mouth were encased in an oxygen mask. She made to grab his hand after a few moments in which they were both swallowed by activity, but found she couldn't quite bring herself to touch him. She felt the stinging in the back of her eyes that denoted the silent tears falling down her face, but it was the back of Ward's knuckles trailing down her skin that she really felt. She sucked in a breath as everyone seemed to still momentarily to stare at the stubborn man.

"Ow…" Jemma jumped when Ward's hand dropped as if lead straight down her injured side. Stepping back from him she ran straight into Fitz, but while attempting to help by folding his arms around her, he simply tore another yelp from her. Fitz released her instantly, her pain drawing one of the four doctors to her side as Ward was rolled away, a heavy woolen blanket thrown over him.

"Fury is gonna shit himself." Barton half laughed, embracing Coulson as if there were not a care in the world drawing everyone's eyes. Coulson didn't seem comfortable with the affection, but he tolerated it, even managing a small smile.

"I don't see a reason he needs to know." Coulson looked at Romanoff meaningfully before the agent was taking Barton's place, though clinging to Phil a little more tightly.

"'K, someone needs to reboot Romanoff…" The older man managed after a minute when the Black Widow did not release him.

"She's been spending too much time with Steve." Barton earned himself a glare for his efforts, but Romanoff did release him. "Should have known Sitwell wouldn't think this up on his own." Barton scoffed, tearing a reluctant smile from Agent Coulson.

"A feel good mission didn't seem his MO." Romanoff nodded, moving back to Barton's side as if a magnet.

"Well, Simmons did shoot him; felt I owed him something in exchange. You know May," Coulson motioned toward Agent May as if trying to pawn the pair off on her.

"Melinda." Romanoff greeted, the two women actually shaking hands as Jemma suppressed a blush at having a part of her blouse torn away to treat her.

"Skye, Fitz, Simmons." Coulson nodded to each. Skye raised her sleeve to her mouth to stop what they all knew would be a rather embarrassing comment. Fitz managed a small laugh at the sight, waving at the two legendary agents. Jemma picked her head up from watching the doctor tape gauze to her side, but she knew her smile came out more of a wince then friendly.

"Dead guy?" Barton asked, motioning over his shoulder. Unintentionally drawing Jemma's eyes to the sight she'd managed to avoid until then. Her eyes locked in on the face of her attacker, and even Fitz could not tear her away for several minutes. She bit her lip hard, sending a small trickle of blood down her chin, suddenly feeling as if slime were working its way over her skin. Fitz tried to lay his hand to her shoulder as she leaned back on the table, but she shook him off, not wanting to spread what she considered a contagion.

"Agent Valriz. We were flying him south to the sandbox after mopping up a supposed alien weapon cache. Turned out they were man made biological weapons. Seems he wanted to sell them, possibly duplicate them, we don't know." May informed as if simply talking about the weather, but whereas Skye and Fitz fidgeted, Jemma could not tear her eyes away from the small scowl on Agent Valriz's face. When the doctor finished taping Jemma he moved to shine a light into Skye's eyes after being informed she was hit with the butt of Agent Valriz's gun. Coulson seemed the only one noticing Jemma's state, moving to her side only to be followed by both Barton and Romanoff as if he might disappear into thin air. The two legendary agents spared a glance to each other, identical looks of amusement lingering before they turned back toward Coulson trying to get Jemma's attention.

"You Agent Simmons?" Barton stepped right up into Jemma's personal space finally drawing her sharply back to what was in front of her. She jumped, nearly managing to sit on the table top as she scrambled for something to steady herself. Fitz grabbed hold of her left arm, worry lingering in the air so heavily she felt it might choke her.

"Yes…I'm dreadfully sorry…Agent Barton is it?" Jemma tried to be polite, but she found her eyes flickering into Valriz's direction every half a second.

"Think I owe you a drink for saving my Junior Agent." Barton smirked, putting his hand in the exact wrong place on her other arm, but Jemma couldn't make her tongue work again.

"Think what we need is a nice warm shower. Huh Simmons?" Coulson eased around Barton to all but demand Jemma meet his eyes. Once she looked up she found herself inching closer to their commanding officer. She jerked every inch, not sure she really should, but Coulson said nothing. When she raised her arms halfway up Jemma started to shake uncontrollably. Coulson eased his arms around her shoulders, not appearing to care about Ward's blood lingering on her.

"Easy Jemma." He coaxed as she continued to shake, unable to think or process everything that had happened to her. She jumped on reflex at the stab of a needle but she did not pull away from Coulson, if anything clinging to him tighter…until the sedative injected in her arm by Agent Romanoff kicked in and she passed out in the man's arms instead.

"Well that's one way…" Coulson laughed, even as he transferred Jemma's weight to Agent Barton, Fitz fussing over his best friend after a moment of intimidation by the legendary agent's mere presence.

"Shouldn't we…I don't know, check on Ward?" Skye finally managed to say, though May raised an eyebrow in her direction as it came out more slurred than the woman had perhaps noticed.

"Mild Concussion." The still nameless doctor piped up even as he moved to exit the Bus without saying anything else. His heavy accent made it almost impossible to discern what he'd even said before his departure.

"May, see if you can keep Skye awake long enough to fix whatever that jerk did to the computing systems on board." Coulson ordered, reaching over to move a piece of hair from Jemma's face mirroring Fitz's worry for a moment.

"Roger. Let's go loopy." May grabbed Skye's forearm just shy of lightly, knowing the woman was not up to fixing the problem that had kept them all sectioned off from each other, but going anyway. A mild concussion was not the worst fate Skye could have met having been snuck up on, but May would be sure to keep her awake until she was sure the young woman hadn't suffered any lasting damage.

"Not that I'm complaining, I mean I gotta agree with Grant, she's pretty, but I just got this suit back." Barton laughed sarcastically, jostling Jemma even though the woman did not move, off in a peaceful sleep that would not last long enough for any of them. Nodding, Coulson lead his former agents and his lab duo off the Bus. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground, but Coulson found himself looking up at the flurries that continued to fall.

"Why were we not informed?" Romanoff asked outright, grabbing hold of Coulson's arm to stall him from joining Barton and Fitz. Barton paused at the decrepit looking doorway to look back at them, but seeing Romanoff's hand around Coulson's elbow seemed to be enough to reassure him. When both men disappeared into the shack of an outpost Coulson sighed, still thinking about what Fury was going to do to him for overriding the standing no contact order. In his defense Ward would live, because if he didn't he'd be hearing from Coulson personally. But he was bound to hear it, having known full well Barton and Romanoff were at this particular outpost.

"I'd get to finish the entire series run of Super Nanny by the time Stark finished his tantrum." He raised an eyebrow in Natasha's direction when she did not release his elbow.

"There was a funeral." The Russian spy said after a minute of silence that grew between them. Despite growing what others would call awkward, Coulson was too well acquainted with her to think much of it.

"Fury decided it was need to know." He sighed, knowing he did not have the answer she wanted.

"You pulled Ward out of Paris." Natasha sighed, finally letting go of Coulson as it dawned on her. She knew Ward, not as well as Barton, but Coulson did not need to tell her it was because he'd had a link to them. She was after all the Black Widow.

"Sitwell's not to terrible a handler actually, but then again you and Barton aren't exactly a cake walk." Coulson picked up, sharing more information discreetly with the woman as they resumed their trek out of the cold weather, Coulson's suit only providing so much warmth.

"Steve misses you." She poked fun at him as they knocked their boots on what appeared to be a bulk head of a submarine riveted to the floor. Despite knowing it was a joke, Phil couldn't help but have a slight feeling of fan boy hope combating the serious worry in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Jemma groaned at the obnoxiously bright light that stung her eyes into closing just as she'd opened them. Her first thought was to the integrity of the Bus, since the only thing she knew of to put her in so much of an aching pain had to be a plane crash. She chanced opening her eyes once more after a moment, but it was slow progress until she managed to stomach the overhead light. It was not as bright as she had originally envisioned more of a dusky glare but it still stung her sight painfully.

"Easy does it." A decidedly female voice said, seeming to scream in her mind but in truth May had barely spoken above a whisper. "You don't want to wake Fitz. He's been up checking on everyone all night." The older woman informed her even though it took a few moments for Jemma to process as her drug induced slumber left a fog of confusion she worked to clear. She found herself staring up at May from a hospital bed, a raggedy blue curtain pulled for privacy behind the level seven agent. It took her yet another moment before she realized May was gently cleaning the right side of her face with a well-worn and slightly cold dish towel. She relished the cold a brief moment before the events that lead her there began to come to her mind. May did not stall in her even and surprisingly gentle strokes, removing god only knew what from Jemma's hair.

"Is…Is he alright?" Jemma finally managed to say after a very long silence, only moving a little to see Fitz asleep upright in what looked to be a floral lounge chair. She doubted he was getting the proper lumbar support after spying a giant hold in the side, Styrofoam sticking up at odd angles.

"Fitz or Ward?" May asked, no judgment in her voice, but she did tilt her head as she moved to Jemma's left side, continuing her oddly comforting poor excuse for a sponge bath. Jemma was not proud of having to think about it for a minute, but she knew with any high dose sedative she'd be in a brain fog for a while yet, perhaps even hours. When May reached behind her to move a white curtain, if one could call a sheet on a clothes line a curtain; Jemma nearly started to cry. Ward did not look alright, by any stretch of the imagination. The IV and blood being pumped back into his body were causing a nasty looking bruise on his arm. The oxygen mask over his face was the only other thing Jemma could make out from her position. She sat up without thinking about it, her world swimming just enough to need steadying courtesy of May's forearm. She grabbed hold of her side unconsciously, not even noticing her blouse had been replaced by one of Ward's t-shirts. When she did notice once her vision had cleared she imagined they had simply grabbed the first thing on the laundry stack.

"He's breathing on his own. He woke up briefly four hours ago. Demanded to be within sight of you and Agent Barton knocked him out before he could do it himself. He was worried about you. Fitz has been moving from that chair, to that one. I'll be surprised if he didn't give himself a cold coming out to the bus so many times to check on Skye. Coulson is being monopolized by Agent's Barton and Romanoff." May informed her as if a status report on every member of their team was what she'd asked. It made sense for May to need to know where everyone was, but in that moment all Jemma cared about was reaching Ward's side and verifying the information for herself. May didn't chastise her like Fitz would when she reached her feet, instead letting the younger woman lean on her for support. Jemma half fell, half hobbled over to Ward's beside, lifting her eyes off the leaning floor to take in his vital signs. His heart was beating normally and his coloring had drastically improved from the Bus hallway.

"I think I should sit down now…yep most assuredly should sit back down." Jemma muttered, May all but carrying her back to her bed. Fitz snored softly, almost erasing the unease in her stomach, but Jemma found herself continuing to hold onto May like an anchor.

"Easy Simmons." May repeated as if it would make Jemma's nerves calm, but she had no such luck. Jemma even found herself hyperventilating before she fully shook the full fog from her mind. May yanking the pillow from the bed startling Fitz awake quickly. May shoved the cotton stuffed head rest into Jemma's arms, removing the pillow case. Fitz scrambled to his feet once he'd blinked the sleep from his eyes. He clumsily climbed onto the bed behind Jemma, his arms going around her shoulders in a tight and reassuring embrace. May twisted the horribly colored brown pillow case to her satisfaction, creating a bag that Jemma did not need prompting to breath into. When the door opened to admit Coulson and a trailing Skye, Jemma could only look over at them in a panic she did not feel in control of at all. She was a brilliant woman and she knew there was nothing that could harm them, especially with two members of the well named Avengers, but it did not stop the fear from taking hold of her.

"Jemma?" Skye squeaked, looking as tired as Fitz, if not more. Coulson and May seemed to share a look over the panicking woman's head as Skye moved to sit beside her. As if sensing the tension in the four bed room, the heart monitor attached to Agent Ward seemed to beat just a little faster, though that might have been Jemma's imagination.

"You're safe Jemma. Everybody's okay." Skye tried instead, a little more empathy coming through as she moved a few damp locks of Jemma's hair. Slowly Jemma managed to get control of herself, embarrassed beyond belief that she'd fallen into a panic attack. She tried to apologize, but Fitz simply held her tighter as she dropped the pillow case bag. May patted her hand while Coulson simply walked over and checked on Ward before coming over to her, turning his nose up at the choice of furniture.

"Nothing to worry about." The older man ticked, clapping his hands together as if that was the end of the conversation, and any lingering fear still sitting in Jemma's stomach. The attempt at levity actually helped despite the seriousness of the phantom hands ghosting over Jemma's skin. "Think its past bedtime though. Ward'll be up gripping about being on restricted duty by tomorrow morning, and I for one need my eight hours to deal with that. Fitz, Skye, you two bunk here…they look less infected then the rest of this Podunk paradise."

After the senior agents left it was not long before the bed jockeying began, both Fitz and Skye claiming their beds to be the most uncomfortable pieces of filth ever created. While it wasn't unheard of for Jemma and Fitz to fall asleep beside each other, she was grateful when Skye didn't comment on Fitz lying down behind her, his arm wrapping around her waist. She found herself comforted by the familiar, though the last expression of Agent Valriz lingered behind her eyes making sleep near impossible. When Skye crawled unapologetically into the double bed on Jemma's other side no one said a word. Skye was careful not to further injure Jemma after she yelped from Fitz attempt to get comfortable. They eventually found the energy to laugh at themselves when the three of them could not move their legs for a massive tangle of limbs, but Skye fell asleep first. Jemma did not blame her, the woman having probably wanted to sleep for however many hours Jemma had gotten but been kept awake by the terrifying efficient Agent May. Fitz breath on the back of her neck did not help Jemma find sleep, but when she gently slid herself as high up on the bed as she could go she felt much better. Skye's head was cutting off the circulation in Jemma's right arm, but she didn't have the heart to move the woman. Her arms were sore like the rest of her, and she was slightly happy about the numbness that accompanied being the woman's pillow. It was three hours later that Jemma finally managed to close her eyes, grabbing hold of Skye's hand resting on Fitz's.

She woke not an hour later in a cold sweat, crying against her wishes. She inhaled deeply, nudging Skye's hair out from under her nose in an attempt to dispel the nightmare. She squeezed Skye's all but dead hand in her own, a pins and needles sensation working up her arm. Jemma leaned backward just enough to reassure herself Fitz was still there, his figure having taken the place of Skye in her nightmare. Exhaling in relief, Jemma tried closing her eyes again, but found herself needing to turn over and not able. It was another hour before she managed to stomp down the urge. She lifted her head to an embarrassing loud pop, but a satisfying release of pressure. With a sigh she settled her head back on the pillow, not aware of the security feed being watched by Coulson, or May forcibly tearing the Buses' television remote from his hand and shoving him toward his bed. It was two hours after that when a swear, that sounded oddly creative, woke her from the same nightmare. The dream demanding to be played out no matter how Jemma tried to manipulate events for a successful rem cycle, she was almost happy for the interruption. That was until she made out the figure falling into the chair Fitz had occupied over Skye's shoulder. Her eyes widened and she jerked to sit up, but found she couldn't manage it in the strangle hold the other two beds occupants had around her.

"Don't wake them." Ward whispered hurriedly, raising a finger to his lips, her view unobstructed since no one had bothered to turn off the overhead light. She had a brief thought that May left it shining on purpose before Ward let out a hurried hiss. Concern and a need to help him swallowed any remnants of her nightmare, but Ward shook his head and nodded to where she held Skye's hand. She looked him over, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, but at least he'd not torn out his transfusion.

"You should not be out of bed!" Jemma whispered harshly, turning quickly to look at both Fitz and Skye, worried she'd woken them, but both remained motionless save the movements of their eyes behind closed lids denoting sleep.

"Go back to sleep Jemma." Ward exhaled, the use of her first name the only thing stopping her from releasing a torrent of aggravated concern for his welfare in the form of a long winded lecture. He winced before lifting his left leg to rest on the marginally higher bed, his foot finding the small space at the back of Skye's curled knees. Jemma found herself calculating the pain killers that were most likely running through him, but no matter which drug she pictured, none of them had him up and moving!

"Pushing yourself to death achieves nothing Agent Ward." She managed to chastise, her voice rising before she hurriedly corrected herself. Rather than answer her, Ward simply rolled his eyes, adjusting the rolling pole beside him. Jemma felt horribly useless as she saw the pain flicker across his face, but he'd asked her not to wake Skye and Fitz. She was two seconds from doing just that before he leaned back further into the chair and finally met her gaze. She could not fully place what she saw there, but the need to reassure herself he was real had her jutting her hand out toward him. She jostled Skye's head doing so, but Jemma was more concerned with reaching Ward then waking her. Ward sighed softly, looking down at her hand a few moments before sliding his left hand into hers. He squeezed her still numb fingers a few quick times before leaning his head back onto the wooden support of the chair.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said without looking over at her and she didn't know if it was meant to reassure her or himself when he continued to squeeze her fingers.

"I'd be most upset if you did." Jemma confessed, squeezing his hand in return. She made out a tiny smile at the corners of the man's lips before his head rolled in her direction and he closed his eyes. Taking her cue from him she tried to do the same, but found herself staring at him instead. Exhaustion, both mental and physical finally claimed her a time later, Agent May having taken over watching the video feed from her position beside Coulson's sleeping form. She crossed her legs, leaning against his head board as he snored softly facing away from her. Keeping watch through the nightmares though no one asked her to. She couldn't undo what had been done to them, but this…this she could do.


End file.
